


Against Great Odds

by TheLadyRebel



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars: Rebels
Genre: Alternate Universe, Character Death Fix, Fix-It, Gen, kanera - Freeform
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-07-09
Updated: 2019-07-18
Packaged: 2020-06-25 04:02:57
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,562
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19737919
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheLadyRebel/pseuds/TheLadyRebel
Summary: Allowing his grief to consume him, Ezra makes a snap decision that changes the course of history. Rather than heed Ahsoka's warnings, he directs a Force push through Kanan's portal in the World Between Worlds in the hopes that it will save his master's life. Although, the days turn into weeks and there is still no sign of Kanan Jarrus. Was Ezra's attempt at salvation a futile one?





	1. Chapter 1

“I’m asking you to _let go_.”

The words ring in Ezra’s ears for a long while after they are spoken. He wants to adhere to Ahsoka’s warning, wants to turn on his heel and leave this tragedy behind him, but the ache in his heart is far too great for him to ignore. 

In a moment of weakness, he reaches toward the portal’s opening, towards _Kanan_ , with longing. It would be so easy to step forward, grab his master by the arm, and pull him out into the safety of the World Between Worlds. It would take such little effort to save him, but Ezra knows there is great truth to Ahsoka’s words: should he bring Kanan here, he and the rest of the Ghost crew would perish in the fire wrought by the fuel tank’s untimely explosion. 

“I have to at least _try_ ,” Ezra mutters under his breath, clenching his jaw as an idea suddenly overtakes him — one that, if timed correctly, may very well be able to save the life of the late Kanan Jarrus. 

He lifts his gaze, arms held bent before him, and _pushes_ the air in the space in front of him with all of his might. His arms extend outward during the motion, urging the invisible essence onward. It’s all Ezra can do, at that moment, as he watches the fire engulf his master — a shove, exerted through the Force from his outstretched hands, sent into the mouth of the portal before him. He hopes with every ounce of his being that he's accomplished something — _anything_ — with the gesture. Worry grips at him as he lifts an arm to shield his eyes from the bright and burning flames that begin to tear across the entirety of the portal's annular visage and Kanan’s figure disappears within. 

Before he is able to see the outcome of his actions, the gateway goes dark. Ezra lets out a shuddering breath, concern mounting as he stares into the emptiness. He feels defeated, doubly so as Ahsoka steps forward and places a gentle hand upon his shoulder.

"He's gone," she whispers solemnly, bowing her head. 

Ezra didn't believe her — he didn't _want_ to believe her, not after what he’d just done. If by some will of the Force, his actions had managed to save Kanan then there was no reason to leave the past behind him…

—

**Lothal, 0 BBY. Post Liberation.**

Innumerable casualties had occurred as a result of the Imperial Occupation on Lothal. Not only had many Rebel lives been taken, but the lives of their sympathizers had as well — all at the hands of the Empire. Because of this, it wasn’t uncommon for bodies to turn up in the most unexpected of places before the planet’s liberation (and even some time _after_ ). Be it on street corners or perhaps someone’s farmland, citizens carted the corpses to the nearest medical facility without asking too many questions. 

In rare cases, the strangers brought in for prompt autopsies were actually _alive_ , though they were merely hanging on by a thread. This was very much the case for a burn victim that had been carefully transported, months prior, to a small medical facility located on the outskirts of Lothal City. 

Unidentifiable due to the wounds he had sustained and the lack of items on his person, the staff had aptly named him “John Doe” and placed him into a bacta tank once his condition was stable. The severity of his injuries had left medical personnel entirely unsure as to when he might awaken, but they continued their care upon him nonetheless.

After several months of care inside of the tank, the patient’s condition had greatly improved. Medical personnel in charge of his tending were _stunned_ at how quickly the man had recovered. It was unlike anything they’d ever seen before although, no one had expected any sort of activity from him in the near future. 

“Still stable,” a woman in a white lab coat tossed over her shoulder, large black eyes gazing up at the stranger floating motionless in the bacta tank before her. With a bored sigh, the Rodian prodded at the datapad in her hands. Since she’d been assigned this patient, John Doe, she’d run a daily analysis on his vitals. And every day she was greeted with the very same results. She was beginning to think that John Doe might never wake up. That was until his hand pressed against the inside of the glass cylinder, startling the Rodian and prompting her to drop the dataslate. The pad clattered to the floor, resting at her feet, and her eyes widened.

“He’s awake!”


	2. It Bears Repeating

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Growing more frustrated by the second, Kanan is confronted with countless questions after he has awoken from his time in the bacta tank, yet all he wants to do is leave the medical facility and find the Ghost crew.

“That’s _impossible,_ ” the Rodian nurse repeated, dumbfounded, her large black eyes focused on her newly awoken patient. “Kanan Jarrus died before the Liberation of Lothal.”

“So you keep saying,” the man said gruffly in reply, voice hoarse from his time spent inside of the bacta tank. As he spoke, another nurse, this one human, fussed about him — checking his vital signs over and over. “and yet here I am.”

Frowning, the Rodian quickly thumbed through the information on her datapad once more. Based on his file, Kanan Jarrus had, indeed, perished in the fire wrought by the explosion of the TIE Defender factory’s fuel depot almost _eight months_ prior. His body had not been found following the blast, but it would have been impossible for anyone to have withstood such heat. He had likely burned up just as the fuel depot had — that was the only conclusion that made sense. 

“But the fire—” She mumbled, more to herself than anything else, and glanced up from the pad. If this man was who he claimed to be, then by some miracle he’d survived an experience that should’ve turned his body to ashes. Not only that, but he’d managed to sustain _minor_ damage. It was all a tad confusing. “Are you able to recall anything that happened before you woke up here?”

With a grunt, Kanan stiffened against the other nurse’s touch. Since he’d come to nearly one hour ago, various doctors and medical staff had poked and prodded at him, taking turns to ask him countless questions; yet they all refused to accept the answers he’d given. It had been a frustrating experience, though he did his utmost to remain calm. After all, he understood their concerns, even sympathized somewhat, but he had questions of his own and he knew he’d never get the chance to ask them should the staff continue fussing over him.

“I remember the fuel depot,” Kanan replied with a tired sigh, closing his eyes as he thought back. His memories of that day were hazy and it was difficult to focus given the nurse’s incessant nudging beside him, but he was able to pull them together into something cohesive — little by little. “I remember standing on top of the central tank when it was shot and I remember—” His eyes opened anew and his brows furrowed. “ _Hera_.”

“Hera,” The Rodian questioned. “as in General Hera Syndulla?”

Rather than reply, Kanan promptly rose and strode toward the doorway. He nearly stepped out into the hall before both nurses were able to drop their equipment and hurry to his side, each of them taking one of his arms into their own to hold him back. Had he not felt so weak from his time spent in the bacta tank, Kanan likely could’ve resisted their restraint upon him. Both nurses were smaller than him and it wouldn’t have taken much effort on his part to push them aside, but his muscles began to ache and throb even as he stood unmoving. And he was beginning to think that perhaps resisting wouldn’t be his best course of action.

“Sir, _please,_ ” the human nurse pleaded, trying to tug him back towards the gurney he’d been seated upon moments ago, “if you’d just sit still and _talk to us_ —”

“That’s all I’ve been doing since I woke up,” Kanan shot back, exasperated, his shoulders slumping, “but I don’t have time to sit here any longer. I have to find Hera. I have to know if she’s alright.”

The Rodian looked from her patient to the nurse on the other side of him, expression slowly softening. As much as she cared for this man’s wellbeing, she knew there was little she could do to convince him to stay put — not when he so clearly had a mission in mind. Besides, he was right. They’d subjected him to an absurd amount of questions from the moment he’d opened his eyes and refused to give him any insight as to where he was or _when._

“General Syndulla is alive and well,” the Rodian found herself saying. Steadily, she released her hold upon Kanan’s arm and stepped back. “And we can help you find her, but we’re going to have to ask that you cooperate.”

It irritated him to no end, but Kanan supposed the nurse was right. If he collected himself for a moment — asked his own questions — maybe finding Hera would be a little simpler than charging out of the medical facility with no clue as to where to begin his search. He took a slow step back and away from the doorway, raising his hands in a gesture of compliance, and turned toward the gurney. 

“Alright,” he muttered, “you’ve got my attention.”


End file.
